


Sky

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Flying, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:58:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8070685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: Harry and Draco both like flying, and in these three scenes it brings them together, slowly over the course of a few years.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a beautiful piece of art posted on tumblr by Arbutus-Blossoms. It can be found here: goo.gl/xnLHsT
> 
> Beta'd by brief_and_dreamy.

They are two little streaks of colour shooting through the gathering dusk. It's a warm May evening. Still, clear, perfect for flying. The pair of them have been out there for hours now, orbiting around each other, and neither seems to want to stop although the light is beginning to fade. The sun is sinking away behind the mountains, casting a warm pink glow over a sky that glitters with stars. 

Eventually they're forced to land. They gather their things and start the walk back to the castle as the walls begin to fall into heather grey shadow. 

"Are you following me, Potter?" 

Harry had been walking along just behind Malfoy, a little grin on his face. He'd thought they were walking together. Apparently not. 

"We're both going to the same place. And we  _were_  just flying together."

"Yes," Malfoy says, turning to face him, "I invited you to fly with me, not to walk me home afterwards. I'm not your girlfriend." His hair is unusually ruffled, his cheeks pink from the cold whip of the wind, eyes gleaming like the stars overhead. 

"I'm not walking you home. I'm going to the castle. Do you want me to turn around and just wait at the Quidditch pitch until you've gone?" Harry's grin has faded a little. Why does Malfoy have this uncanny ability irritate him every time he opens his mouth? It had been fine when they were just flying.

"Maybe you should. Although obviously you need to make sure I'm not going to wander off and murder everyone in their beds." 

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It's all tangled and windswept from flying, beyond any help right now. "Either you want me to leave or you don't."

Malfoy folds his arms, hugging his broom to his chest, and studies him. "Escorting former Death Eaters back to school is right up your street, isn't it, Potter?"

Harry is losing all patience now. "Make your mind up, Malfoy."

He's gifted a sneer. "Come along, then. If you're going to walk with me will you actually walk with me? Having you breathing down my neck is disturbing."

Harry hesitates for a moment, then walks up beside Malfoy who barely waits before setting off for the castle. Harry almost has to jog to keep up with him. They walk in an awkward silence. Harry has no idea what to say, and Malfoy doesn't seem to want to talk. 

Dark clouds are beginning to fold in above them, blazing gold at the edges where the last rays of sun are falling, but shadowy and ominous. They haven't covered the stars though. A comet streaks past the astronomy tower, plummeting through the twilight sky. 

"I still don't know why you asked me to come flying with you," Harry says, glancing sideways at Malfoy.

Malfoy looks down at the ground, shadows covering his face. "You like flying, we've been told to get on. Isn't it logical?" 

"But you didn't have to invite me to-"

Malfoy gives a dramatic sigh. "I'm beginning to regret that I did. Flying is fine, it's when you open your mouth I want to hex you."

"The feeling is mutual," Harry says, looking back up at the school. The walls are blackening as darkness crawls over them, but there's a long streak of golden light falling across the grounds from the open doors, welcoming them home. "I think I'll miss it," he says. He doesn't really mean to. It's not the sort of thing he says aloud, especially not to Malfoy. 

"I'm letting you walk with me, Potter. But I won't if you start getting sentimental." Malfoy's eyes glint at him through the gathering dusk.

"Sorry," Harry says quietly. "Just sometimes I remember we're leaving soon."

"I'd have left weeks ago if I could have," Malfoy says. "It can't come soon enough in my opinion."

Harry adjusts his grip on his broom. "I never asked why you decided to come back this year..."

"Good. It's none of your business."

Harry glances sideways at him. There's a bit of breeze rushing across the still grounds, ruffling his blond hair, blowing it into his eyes as he gazes intently at the ground.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just stay away?"

He doesn't look up. "Are you implying I like an easy life?"

"No, I-"

He gets to the top of the castle steps and turns back to face Harry, planting his broom on the ground. The light from inside the castle shines past him, setting him ablaze, but throwing his face into total darkness. "I have a life to live, Potter. That's why I'm here. Not everyone is getting things handed to them on a silver platter. Although maybe you haven't had to notice that, with the whole world licking your boots."

Harry takes a step forward. "Malfoy-"

"You know," Malfoy says, "I think I can just about make it back to the dungeons without cursing anyone. At least I will if you leave me alone." He turns and marches away.

"Wait!" Harry rushes up the stairs after him. Malfoy was right, they'd promised to try and get along, and he has no idea what he's done wrong here, but-

"Goodnight, Potter."

He's gone, leaving Harry standing forlornly at the bottom of the steps, slightly stunned, slightly confused. Why does everything always go so terribly when Malfoy is around? 

\---

The last person Harry expected to see at the picnic was Malfoy, but he's here. He hovers awkwardly on the edge of the group, who are all spread across the grass in the park, like he isn't entirely sure he's allowed to speak to anyone. In the end it's Luna who draws him in, with her gentle, unprejudiced chatter. Malfoy seems utterly bemused by her, but he talks back and slowly becomes integrated into the group.

Whatever Hermione might insinuate, Harry hasn't spent the entire afternoon staring at Malfoy. He's just keeping an eye. Things are usually okay these days, but you never entirely know. Better to be safe than sorry. 

Time wears on. A lot of bottles of Butterbeer, Firewhisky, and lager empty. There's an awful lot of laughter, and slowly people disperse into couples or little groups and start floating away to do... Whatever. Eventually Harry realises that all his really close friends have gone. Ron and Hermione left a while ago, and he doesn't blame them, they hardly get chance to spend time together they're both so busy. But now the only person left here who he really knows is Malfoy.

Possibly thanks to the effects of that extra bottle of lager, Harry wanders over to him.

"Malfoy."

Stone cold grey eyes look up at him. "Potter."

"I didn't know you were coming," Harry says, sitting on the grass opposite him.

Malfoy sneers. "I'm sorry I've failed to share my entire social calendar with you. Perhaps you'd like to have a look through my diary so you can be more up to date in future?" 

"I didn't mean..." Harry sighs. "I just didn't expect- I'm glad you're here. I was worried that people would... After everything. That you'd be left out of things." 

"You're glad I'm here?" Malfoy asks incredulously. "And I thought you detested me." 

Harry shrugs and picks a couple of blades of grass. "I haven't hated you for years. You've grown on me."

Malfoy snorts. "How flattering." He gets to his feet, staggering slightly. "Well Potter, as pleasant as your company is, I really must be going. I suppose I shall see you-"

He breaks off as Harry, in an impulsive, alcohol fuelled moment, gets up and takes hold of his arm to steady him. For a moment he stares at Harry, then he glares down at the offending hand on his arm. 

"What are you doing?"

"You can't Apparate," Harry says quickly. "You're drunk. You'll hurt yourself." 

"Maybe I couldn't give a fuck if I hurt myself." 

"Maybe you couldn't, but I do." And he means it. It's a surprise even to himself really. 

Malfoy blinks at him, eyes wide, then they snap back to their usual narrowed disgust and he pulls his arm away. "I can't get home if I don't Apparate. And if you suggest Muggle public transport I will hex you." 

"I flew here," Harry says. "And I didn't drink much. I can drop you off." 

"You-" Malfoy shakes his head. "You astound me. No I don't want you to give me a lift home on your broom. I really would rather splinch myself." He starts walking away, apparently trying to appear steady but failing. It doesn't help that the park they're in isn't exactly flat.

Harry watches him go, admiring the slight sway of his hips, and the way he throws an arm out almost casually when he stumbles. He's wearing Muggle clothes today. Dark, tight jeans that make his ass- Harry shakes himself. He is not going to think about Malfoy's ass, no matter how pleasing it is, which it isn't at all really. It's too flat and bony to be pleasing and- 

"How long has it been since you flew?" Harry calls after him. 

Draco pauses and looks back. "What does that matter?" 

"You like flying. And you haven't done it since school. It's been over a year. Don't you miss it?"

"Of course I-" Draco snaps then stops himself. "Piss off, Potter." He doesn't keep walking though.

Harry pauses for a moment, then he slowly draws his wand. "Accio Firebolt." The broom soars from the patch of grass where he'd abandoned it earlier into his outstretched hand. He can feel the energy of it, that willingness to fly. It isn't the best broom anymore, there are better ones entering the market every year, but it's his, and he loves it, and he'd never want a different one. 

"See you then, Malfoy," he says, and mounts the broom. 

For the briefest second neither of them moves, then Malfoy stalks toward Harry across the grass. 

"You're giving me a lift home, Potter."

Harry grips the handle but doesn't kick off from the ground. "Am I?"

"You offered. Are you going to make some room?" Malfoy taps Harry on the back, and Harry shivers and slides forward a bit. He feels Malfoy settle behind him, just a tiny bit of distance between them, thank Dumbledore, because he definitely couldn't stand having Malfoy pressed against him. Just the thought of it makes his heart beat a bit faster. 

Malfoy wraps his arms loosely round Harry's waist, and Harry glances back at him.

"Aren't you going to hold on tighter? I don't want you to fall off."

"Why would I want to hold on tighter?" Malfoy asks, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you craving hugs, Potter?"

"You're drunk," Harry says. "What if you-"

"I know what I'm doing," he replies with a little sneer.

_Do you?_ Harrythinks to himself, but he doesn't bother to argue any more. Malfoy might just decide he'd rather walk home, and the feeling of his hands resting lightly on Harry's hips... 

Harry doesn't wait another second before he kicks off from the ground and they soar upwards. 

It's lovely, this early evening sky. There's a tinge of pink and lavender down by the horizon, thin distant clouds are streaks of silver, light blue fades to dark blue towards the heavens, and there's just the tiniest sliver of crescent moon suspended pale and white overhead.

Below them the park disappears. The houses and hedges and roads shrink into tiny play things. They blaze overhead, wind ruffling their hair, both gazing downward at the ground, and it feels like freedom up here. Like nothing in that world, the hard, difficult, mundane place they both live in, matters. They are untouchable.

Malfoy seems a little unsteady still, but his grip tightens on Harry and after that his balance feels better. Which is good. Harry doesn't like the idea of him splattering himself across the ground, however insufferable he might be. 

It's such a glorious evening, the kind of evening that needs to be savoured. Harry glances back at Malfoy, who is looking out at the view with an actual smile on his face, and that is what makes his decision for him. He angles the broom toward central London and leans forward slightly to give them a burst of speed.

It isn't exactly sensible. Anyone could look up and see them. They could be arrested for this. And technically Harry should at least disillusion them both. But that extra drink is making him feel just a touch reckless, and if Malfoy is smiling at the view already, imagine how he'll look when he sees the entire city spread out below him. 

It takes Malfoy about two minutes to notice they've changed course.

"Potter," he says, leaning forward, breath hot on Harry's neck. He smells slightly of Firewhisky and a little bit of strawberries. "Where the fuck are you taking me? Do you even know where I live?"

"We're taking the scenic route," Harry says happily. "Relax, Malfoy. I know what I'm doing." 

Malfoy snorts, but he leans back and doesn't complain anymore. 

They find the long, curving loop of the Thames and start following it. Boats carve through the water below. Some people are out for an early evening row, there are tourists hanging off the side of a larger boat taking pictures of some landmark or another, there's a party boat out already pumping Muggle music out into the air. 

The closer to the city centre they get, the darker the night grows. It's definitely twilight now, and the lights of London are beginning to spark into life below them. Car headlamps whisk through a shimmering dance, weaving threads of gold along the streets and across the bridges. The buildings slowly illuminate, window by window. As they finally hit Westminster the pale faces of Big Ben's clocks glow like the moon, marking the slow march of time. 

Harry pulls back on the broom and they hover up there in the open sky, looking out at the shining world spread beneath them. For once Malfoy doesn't seem to have anything to say, and for a moment Harry wonders if he's actually okay, but when he glances back to check he sees Malfoy surveying their surroundings with this small, glowing smile on his face. It's like a mask has melted away and there's just wonder and happiness there. 

Then he notices Harry watching and the smile instantly snaps into a smirk. 

"Admiring the view?" 

"Checking you hadn't fallen off," Harry replies.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Malfoy says, looking away. "Do you realise we could be spotted up here?"

"I know," Harry says, also looking away. "I decided I didn't care."

"I suppose you can get away with anything, blessed Saint Potter. You could reveal us all to the Muggles and half the Ministry would still be ready to suck your-"

"We can go if you want," Harry says quickly, beginning to turn them round. 

"No," Malfoy says. He withdraws his hands entirely from Harry's waist. "I'm quite happy here thank you."

Harry sighs and holds the broom steady. "Fine."

It's a bit cold now the sun is sinking below the horizon, but other than that there's nothing even slightly bad about staying up here for longer. For a couple of minutes they sit there in perfect silence, then Harry feels Malfoy's arms wrap around him again, and Malfoy's chest lean against his back. Malfoy may be bony, but he's also warm and sort of nice. Comfortable, in a way he definitely shouldn't be. 

Harry doesn't move or say anything. He just keeps watching a water bus, which is crawling out from Westminster Pier, sending golden light sparkling across the waves as it sets off up the Thames. 

Finally Malfoy breaks the silence.

"You really don't know where I live though, do you?"

Harry glances back at him. "No I don't."

Malfoy sighs despairingly. "Only you would offer a lift to someone without even knowing where they live. My house could be anywhere. I could live on the other side of London to you."

"You don't, though," Harry says. "I saw you in the supermarket last week."

"Have you been stalking me?" Malfoy asks, and Harry can hear the sneer in his voice.

"No. I just notice things. Are you ready to go? It's getting dark and we don't have any lights."

"And I thought you were concerned about getting me home safely," Malfoy says incredulously. "You kidnap me and drag me to the middle of London where anyone could see us, and now you don't have any lights. Your chivalry really is impressive." 

Harry starts flying. 

They do get home safely, and Malfoy does live near Harry, just a couple of streets away. Harry waits at the bottom of the drive until he sees Malfoy disappear through the front door and one of the lights come on upstairs. Then he turns and walks the rest of the way to his own home.

\---

They land in the meadow behind the house. It's a gloriously warm summer evening and they've been flying because on nights like this the sky is just irresistible. 

Harry feels alive with happiness and adrenaline as he glides in neatly, toes skimming the tips of the grass. He keeps low to his broom, waiting for the perfect moment to jump off, but when it finally comes one of his feet sinks into a rabbit hole and he sprawls sideways, rolling unceremoniously across the ground. He lands in a giggling heap, broom cradled in his arms, and when he looks up he sees Malfoy gazing down at him. 

"You were the youngest seeker in a century and you can't even stick a landing. I don't know what they ever saw in you." He holds a hand out.

Harry grins up at him and takes the hand, letting Malfoy pull him to his feet. "I don't know. What does anyone ever see in me?"

Malfoy shakes his head, banishes both their broomsticks back to the house with a flick of his wand, and folds his arms. "I can't possibly imagine."

The setting sun bathes him in a bright red glow. It warms his pale face, makes his eyes shine. Even his hair is tinged with pink. 

"That wasn't how it seemed last night," Harry says with a smirk. "You were rather enamoured then." 

"That was last night," Malfoy says coolly. "You know it's different when my cock is involved."

Harry snorts and digs his hands into his pockets. "At least one part of you likes me." 

"Oh no," Draco corrects, "all of me likes you. There's just no sense to it. I mean look at you." 

Harry looks down at himself. He's wearing a green jacket that he realises now is slightly creased, he flattens it out quickly, and  a pair of black jeans. There's also the scar and the glasses and the wild black hair and the green eyes that he's always so painfully aware of. When he glances back up it's to discover that Malfoy is  _looking_  at him with this dark intensity that is almost impossible to stand. 

Finally Malfoy reaches out and touches his cheek, brushing a hand over his jaw. "I shouldn't- but..."

Harry smiles. "I know what you mean." 

Malfoy is too pale and bony, too many angles and sharp edges. His hair isn't thick and luscious, it just sort of hangs and frames his face, always erring on the side of too long. There are all the scars and bad memories. And yet...

Harry brushes his fingers down Malfoy's left arm, lingering briefly over the place where the Mark is, then he decisively takes Malfoy's hand. 

The setting sun paints Malfoy's lips with peach light and shadow as they curl into a small smile. Harry kisses him, one hand cupping his face to hold him steady, fingers still entwined. Malfoy opens up for him, mouth warm and soft, gentle pressure, tongue caressing. He always kisses like this, like love. It used to be a surprise, that Malfoy could be so tender, but now it just feels blissful and familiar.

"I love you," Harry murmurs, pulling back slightly so he can look into Malfoy's eyes, which in this light are the most beautiful heather grey, and slightly crinkled at the edge because he's smiling. 

"You're a wonder," he breathes, and strokes Harry's jaw with slightly trembling fingers. 

Harry grins. "I don't know about that, but... I'm lucky to have you." 

Malfoy's smile transforms into a smirk. "I know." He grazes his lips against Harry's, then pulls away, teasing. "Take me home, Potter."

Harry grins. "I thought you'd never ask." He gives Malfoy one last kiss and squeezes his hand tightly.

They turn towards the sunset. Low, fluffy clouds blaze with glorious golden light. The sun is blindingly low in the sky, sinking toward the horizon. The sky is almost pale white through to dusky twilight blue. They're both bathed in evening summer sunshine, a breeze ruffles their hair. As they set off for home, the home they share together, it rather feels as though they're walking on air. 


End file.
